


Metamorphosis (or not)

by belmanoir



Category: Fandom RPF, Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mary Sue your friends meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe fucks a groupie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metamorphosis (or not)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unhurt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unhurt/gifts).



> Goes AU a few minutes before the end of the movie. Written for the mary-sue-your-friends meme. Sonia speed-beta'd.
> 
>  **WARNING:** in-character misogyny and fatphobia.

Joe pushed Billy's glass off the step with his boot. Not too hard, he didn't actually want it to break, which meant the noise it made when it hit the cement was entirely unsatisfying.

In the end it was love, his fucking ass. In the end it was just too much fucking effort to pick himself up off the floor. Picking Joe up off the floor had always been Billy's job. Maybe that was why addiction had gotten so much less fun the last few years.

He looked at Bruce and started to grin. A movie, like a life, needed a dramatic fucking conclusion. The only downside was he wouldn't actually get to see the look on the fat little bitch's face.

"Um, Mister--J--um?" There was something weird about the voice. He turned his head and saw a girl hovering off to his left. Fucking wannabe with her fucking vinyl pants and orange hair. Nice tits though. 

"What the fuck do you want?" He put all the Dick he could into his voice.

"I--um--sorry to bother you, but I heard there was a bootleg from this tour and I wondered if you knew where I could get it? Sorry, I just. I like your jumper. Oh, fuck." Something weird, yeah. An accent, Scottish or Irish, or somewhere in the Old Country, anyway. She liked his what? "Um," she said again. "Sorry, but--are you okay? I saw the show."

"Then why the fuck are you asking? Get out of my fucking face." Of course he wasn't okay. But there was something about the slope of her shoulders inside her hoodie that turned him on, and besides, she was looking at him like she'd let him do anything, like she thought he was the motherfucking greatest. There hadn't been a lot of that on this tour. He stood up. "And it's not a fucking bootleg. It's a concert recording. 'Herd it through the Bovine.'"

Her eyebrows went up and she laughed. "Brilliant name." Yeah, see, it was fucking brilliant! 

Which is when Billy came out of the club. Down the steps toward Joe, tissue stuffed up his nose, and when he saw the girl he stopped. _Fuck_ Billy anyway. Joe stepped outta his way, purposely bumping hips with the girl, who blushed and looked down and didn't try to move away.

"You're like a fucking cat, you know that?" Billy said. "Always land on your fucking feet. I think you broke my fucking nose, you asshole."

Joe couldn't speak. The words piled up in his throat, clawing to get out, drawing blood. Billy was acting like he thought this was the same old shit.

"Cockroach," the girl mumbled.

He glanced at her.

She flushed brighter red. "Um, I mean. Sorry. You're not a cat. You're a cockroach. You know? They survive thermonuclear blasts and--sorry."

Joe grinned at Billy. "Yeah, Billiam, I'm a fucking cockroach. No wonder your songs are all shit. Can never quite find the right word, can you?" Like _love_. He seemed to have dropped that one right down the back of the fucking couch.

"You stupid _fucking_ asshole. Get rid of the girl." Billy stood there, incandescent with righteous irritation and too much of a pussy to punch back like he always was, and Joe fucking _hated_ him.

"You want a ride in my van?" he asked the girl, and Billy shoved past them and headed down the street.

Joe almost went after him, but Bruce was watching, and Billy wasn't going anywhere Joe couldn't find him.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" she asked.

He laughed at her. "No, I'm not okay to fucking drive. I meant do you want a _ride_ in my _van_." He fucked his right fist with his left index finger.

Her eyes went right to his crotch. "Oh. Um..." She stuck her hands in the pockets of her hoodie and looked indecisive and longing.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip obscenely. "This is a limited time offer, baby."

She started and stared at his mouth. "Okay! Yes, I do. I just have to make a phone call first."

"You get one cigarette, and then I'm outta here."

She blinked. "Okay."

"You got a cigarette?"

She fumbled in her pockets a bit before pulling out a pack with three left. She lit it for him, too, and in the brief warmth he glanced at her face. It was always weird, looking at someone's face while they were lighting your cigarette on the street. They were always too close, trying to shield the flame. It made both of you vulnerable, like a photograph you didn't know anyone was taking. Her lips were parted and for a second he actually wanted to kiss her.

He blew smoke in her face instead. "Till I hit filter."

She scurried off towards the pay phone, lighting one for herself as she went. The vinyl pants might be a poser move, but her ass looked hot in them. He heard the coins clinking in--a lot of them, must be a long-distance call. He couldn't hear what she was saying at first, but she got louder, and he was only half-way through the cigarette when she yelled, "I never want to see you again, you bastard Australian!" and slammed the phone down. She stomped back to him. "Let's do this," she said, blowing smoke nervously out of the side of her mouth.

###

She wasn't enjoying it. He didn't care, but it pissed him off anyway. People always wanted something _more_. He'd put on the fucking condom she handed him, what the hell else did she expect? He wasn't a fucking New Kid on the Block, he didn't pretend to be a sensitive guy, he didn't even fucking _bathe_ and then they always acted surprised when all they got was an asshole who stank. Mary'd actually looked _disillusioned_ when Billy almost fell over her in a drunken stupor. Was she that fucking stupid? Course, Billy was the one who pretended. Billy'd probably made like he gave a shit before he fucked off and left her knocked up. He'd probably _seduced_ her, like she wouldn't have spread their legs for any of them if they fucking looked at her twice.

This girl looked just like that, like she was about to fucking _cry_ because he wasn't a _nice boy_.

"Rule One," he slurred in the girl's ear, "foreplay is for fags."

She gasped. "Um, yes, maybe you could talk more?"

"If I wanted a fucking conversation, I'd have asked you on a fucking _date_ , you stupid cunt!" He slammed into her, trying to make it hurt, and to his complete shock she moaned and pushed up her hips.

"Sorry, I just--yeah, like that please--"

He stopped. What the fuck was going on? He rolled them over so she'd be on top and he could see her face, but then he got distracted by her tits. Girl-on-top was always a winner. 

He tugged down the zipper on her hoodie and shoved up her tank top. "Take your fucking bra off, I want to see your tits."

"Yes, okay." She felt around at her back and pulled the strap off one arm, fishing the bra out through her other sleeve. 

"Anyone ever tell you you got a fantastic rack?"

"Well, there were some men at a building site once--"

"They weren't just being polite." He got his hand around one and squeezed. Yeah. It hurt his busted knuckles, but who gave a fuck? "I give 'em a five for size, eight for nipples, and eleven-and-a-half for shape." He and Billy had had a whole fucking system. He was pretty sure there was a fourth category but he couldn't remember it.

"Thank you, you're too kind." She sounded like she thought that was funny. He drove up into her and her tits bounced a little. Eyes widening, she reached down between her legs. "Sorry, I just think we'll both be happier if I do this myself--" She rubbed her clit and ground down on him. 

Oh, fuck yeah. This was actually turning out to be kind of fun. "So you like my voice, huh?"

She grinned at him. "Say 'cunt' again." The word sounded weird in her foreign girl voice, weird and hot.

He pinched her nipple. "You're a twisted little bitch, you know that?"

"Mmm." She closed her eyes and ground down harder, her fingers working. "Slower. Say it slower."

He wrapped his hand in her shoved-up top and dragged her down. " _Don't_ tell me what to do, you dirty. Fucking. _Whore,"_ he growled in her ear, and she came, her breasts shaking against the front of his sweater.

Shit, that felt _fantastic_ , he'd forgotten how good it felt when a girl came. Waves around him, like undertow dragging him down, fuck yeah. 

Would it feel like that if Billy came while Joe was fucking him? Billy hadn't come, that time, and before that it had been all blowjobs and handjobs, like it wasn't queer if Billy just didn't take it up the ass. Joe felt the girl's pussy clench around his cock, thought about Billy wriggling against him and those stupid squeaking noises he always made when he shot. He dug his fingers into her hips and fucked her hard until he came. "Billy," he groaned into her hair.

She gave an exhausted moan and licked his ear, which was just freakish.

###

Someone was knocking. Joe sat up. Fuck. His head hurt. He was on the floor of the bus and his pants were still unzipped. Ouch. He had a zipper imprint on his cock. It was too early to try to button his jeans, so he just crawled forward until he could see who it was. It wasn't Billy, no fucking way it was Billy, so stop with the baseline, stupid fucking heart--

It was the girl. What the fuck? He'd pushed her and her fucking bootleg out of the van as soon as he could move again, so why was she back? This was why you should never let a girl come, she thought it was some kind of secret handshake that meant you ever wanted to see her fucking face again.

"Let me in," she yelled. "I have donuts. And coffee."

Well. In that case. He let her in, but her bike stayed in the fucking street. She glanced down at his open fly and looked about half disgusted and half into it. Too fucking bad. It was way too early for that too. "You got a cigarette?"

They lit up and tore into the donuts. 

"You know I'm kicking you out again after I eat this, right?"

"Oh. Yes. I--look, I brought you a pamphlet. They had them at the coffee shop."

"I got no need for a fucking Mercedes-Benz, so take your tract and shove it up--"

She rolled her eyes. "It's not for that. It's for a support group for men like you, men who have too many"--she looked around, lowered her voice-- _"emotions."_

He stared at her. She had cinnamon sugar on her chin, but otherwise she looked normal. "You're shitting me."

She shook her head emphatically. "No. I know a guy who goes. He says it changed his life."

Joe looked at the pamphlet. _EA will change your life!_ it read. "You got any cash?"

She pulled out her wallet. "Well, I have fifty dollars, but I need it to--"

He reached over and plucked the money out of her hands. "Fifty dollars is perfect, thank you. Now get the _fuck_ out of my van!"

"Hey, I need that--"

"I said fuck off!"

She fled.


End file.
